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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26269768">Objects of desire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobadeluxe/pseuds/bobadeluxe'>bobadeluxe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Meryl/Stud Fuckfest [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dungeons and Daddies (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, At the mountain of dadness, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Forniphilia, Human Furniture, Humiliation, Light Dom/sub, Light Masochism, M/M, One Shot, Period Typical Attitudes, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Smoking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:26:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,331</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26269768</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobadeluxe/pseuds/bobadeluxe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Y'know, like a stool?" Stud unhelpfully explained.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Stud Stampler/Meryl Streep</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Meryl/Stud Fuckfest [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1908622</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Objects of desire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Period typical attitudes in this case means racism and homophobia, there is only a brief mention though</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Don't read too hard into it now. </em>
</p><p>Hard not to when your partner wanted you to sit on him. Not anywhere that would be sensible in a sexual context, mind you. Not on his lap, his face, and not even on his cock which would make the most sense. Stud wanted Meryl to sit on his <em> back. </em> </p><p>"Y'know, like a stool?" Stud unhelpfully explained. </p><p>He was blushing, and looking at everything in their room but Meryl, who was sitting right next to him on the bed. With the way he was acting, there was no way it could possibly be an innocent request (if that wasn't clear before.) Meryl was proven right once again that beneath his All-American, Boy Next Door facade, Stud got something special hidden deep down. He was disappointed though, because thus far nothing about it was scandalous. It was a series of sexual fantasies that deviated from the norm <em>just </em>enough to be strange, but not enough that it would constitute as a sexual deviancy. Feet? Stool? The church wouldn't condemn him for any of those – he would only confuse a few priests at most.</p><p>He was confusing Meryl <em> now. </em>"And that would be good for you.. how?"</p><p>Stud seemed to blush even harder. "I like the idea of it."</p><p>Meryl considered himself experienced in the arts of love making, and fucking. He had his fair share of adventurous lovers, and he had been exposed to the downright degenerate ways people would fantasize about a sexually aggressive foreign villain. Meryl was – for the lack of better words – desensitized. Yet he was never asked to sit on someone, and it caught him off-guard. Stud should be proud of himself.</p><p>"The idea of being sat on, you mean." He was not getting it, is he? In his defense, Stud was not doing a very good job explaining his peculiar taste.</p><p>"That's a villain move, right? Using someone like an object with no regard to their well-being." Stud tried to relate to him with his movies instead. A good way to paint the picture, but too on the nose for Meryl's liking. He might as well be kicking puppies.</p><p>"Sure," Meryl decided to go along with that logic for now. "I still don't see how this could be pleasurable for you."</p><p>"It's more about the experience?" Stud suggested nervously; he didn't sound like he thought Meryl would understand.</p><p>He <em> did </em> understand though, sort of. Something you did not for the reward, but for the experience. Which translated to 'Meryl didn't know how sitting on Stud's back was going to make him come, but at least he would probably enjoy himself.' </p><p>"You don't have to do it if you aren't comfortable," Stud reassured him.</p><p>"I know." It didn't bother him as much as it confounded him, anyway. "Give me some time to think about it."</p><p>"Alright, let me know whenever you want to try."</p><p>It wasn't <em>whenever</em> though, was it. It had to be when Stud was not occupied with his job or Willy, and they had to be alone together, away from prying eyes. And those were just some of the many, many, factors to consider. The finer details fell under Meryl's care now, just like Stud himself whenever they engaged in their  play. Meryl would have to consider them when he initiates it – <em>if </em>he initiates it.</p><p>He was leaning toward <em> when </em> more than <em> if </em>. It wasn't the worst or the strangest thing he had been asked to do, including in the bedroom. It shouldn't be hard to get into the mindset of someone who would use human furniture, since Meryl was already 'naturally mean.' (Not his words.) He could always quit if it got too much, but right now he felt neutral. It required almost no effort, so why not give it a try?</p><p>Meryl would try anything once; he was a modern man.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>He didn't sit on Stud the first time.</p><p>They were in the kitchen, spending the precious early morning hours together before Willy The Nuisance woke up. Stud was pouring himself a cup of coffee at the counter, and Meryl was trying to reach the cabinet above it. He needed a knife for his damn breakfast, but since Stud's nephew was a hellspawn who couldn't be trusted with anything sharp, they were all kept in the unnecessarily high cabinets. Stud noticed his struggling, and offered to help.</p><p>"Here, let me get that for you – "</p><p>Meryl slapped his hand away, wanting to grab it by himself. He was just being stubborn, and yet.. Stud blushed all pink and pretty. <em> Oh, it was like that, huh? </em></p><p>Well, it seemed as good a time as any.</p><p>"No, not like that." Meryl made a point to look and sound irritated, like Stud should already know. "Get on your knees."</p><p>He didn't have to, obviously. It might've been too early for that, but Meryl offered him the opportunity to try this out just in case. Much to his surprise, Stud kneeled down straight away. So quick Meryl worried he was going to trip over himself. He got too enthusiastic that he forgot what they were going to do, and just knelt there. Meryl had to quirked an eyebrow, and nudged him with his feet for him to remember. Stud got on all fours, Meryl hesitated for a second but – ah, what the hell. He stepped on Stud's back, and stood on him to reach the top cabinet.</p><p>Meryl thought it'd be worse if he was slow, thus he stepped on him right away. Stud groaned under his weight, scaring the shit out of him for a second, but then he was.. fine. He didn't shake at all, which felt insulting if he had to be honest. Meryl wasn't <em> that </em>light. Stud had better enjoy it while he still could; he wouldn't be able to do this if he was ten years.. twenty years older. Meryl would break his spine right in half.</p><p>Meryl stepped down – knife in hand – deciding not to push Stud further even though he looked like he'd be able to support his weight for a while. Stud scrambled back onto his knees; his cock sas already impossible to hide half-erected. Meryl snorted at the sight. He wasn't trying to be mean – he genuinely found Stud's reaction amusing (and endearing.) For someone as tall as him, Stud could make himself look small on his knees, and he looked even smaller when he thought he was being mocked. His embarrassment creeped from his pink cheeks down to his collars. His eyes casted downward to the floor, lower lip bitten. Meryl wasn't into this before, but he liked how much Stud liked it.</p><p>He turned away from Stud, humming a tune and pretending to ignore him. He wasn't going to eat his breakfast standing up at the counter – obviously – but it was fun to leave Stud stewing in his own shame for a bit. He remained kneeling there still, waiting for permission.</p><p>"Oh, right," he said to himself as if it just occurred to him. At the corner of his eyes, Stud squirmed in place. "You can get up  now."</p><p>Stud stood up to his full height, but somehow he still looked small as he towered over Meryl. It was cute.</p><p>"How was it, hm?" Meryl asked, his voice couldn't sound more insincere if he tried. "Did you like being my step stool?"</p><p>Poor Stud nodded with enthusiasm. Aw, if only teasing him wasn't so much fun. "I'm glad I could help."</p><p>"And what do we say when we're given an opportunity to be useful for once?" <em> Hm, was that too much? But Stud seemed to like that particular flavor of degradation </em>.</p><p>"Th- thank you, sir." <em> Oh. </em></p><p>"Good boy." Meryl broke character, and the whole human object thing for a second. He was doing so well, it would be a crime to not reward him. "Open your mouth for me."</p><p>Stud did as ordered. Meryl cut a small piece of bacon, and picked it up with his fork. He turned to Stud who was <em> still </em> waiting with his mouth open, drooling a little.</p><p>"Say <em> ahh </em>," Meryl teased. </p><p>Stud bent down and closed his mouth around it, soft and slow, as if there was a wrong way to do it. Meryl patted him gently on one cheek before pulling the fork away.</p><p>Now that was a productive breakfast.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The second time Meryl was thinking about how he needed to buy a footstool, then he remembered he had <em> Stud </em> <b> <em>. </em> </b>Lucky him.</p><p><b> <em>"Studd!"</em> </b> Meryl yelled out of the living room  "Come here for a second."</p><p>Stud dropped whatever he was doing outside to join him. It was nice to have a man at his beck and call. Even better than the assistant  he used to have.</p><p>"Do you need something?" he asked.</p><p>"Are you busy? Do you have to be somewhere?" When Stud shook his head no, Meryl put up his legs. "My legs are tired."</p><p>Stud chuckled. "Do you want a massage?"</p><p>"No," he groaned, and rolled his eyes. "I want you to kneel for me, and make yourself useful."</p><p>Though if Stud wasn't in the mood for that, Meryl will take the massage, thank you.</p><p>As it turned out, Stud was very much into that. He was grinning and giggling as he made his way over, until Meryl scolded him. Stud kneeled in front of him on all fours, holding his position as usual. When he gave Meryl a nod, he swung his legs up onto his back.</p><p>Stud made a surprisingly good footstool. Sturdy, a good amount of space, and just at the right height. Everytime Meryl shifted his legs, his heels rub against the ridge of his spine, Stud would let out a content sigh. Meryl could see the impressive definition of his back muscles relaxed. </p><p>"Seems like you found your calling," Meryl mused. Stud knew better than to respond.</p><p>He returned to the book he was reading earlier. It was Stud's, he thought. Meryl found it around the house. He was only going to pass the time with it, but the history of musical theatre was more interesting than he expected. In fact, Meryl was so immersed in the book, he forgot he was using Stud as his footstool.</p><p>By the time he remembered, Meryl already finished the book. Dammit. "Why didn't you say something?" They had a word for it and everything.</p><p>Stud just laughed. They both remained in  their positions (Meryl got too comfortable to move) and Stud looked.. fine. If he lost his strength – even a little – Meryl would've noticed. He didn't though, the bastard. </p><p>"I didn't want to interrupt. You were enjoying yourself," he said. "And uh, I was too. Didn't need to tap out."</p><p>"Are you not tired at all?" Meryl asked and put his book down. </p><p>He understood the appeal of it more now, but the physical aspect of it eluded him. What was fun about kneeling for half an hour with a neglected erection? Meryl didn't even like to be on his knees, let alone supporting someone on his back while he did so. </p><p>"No, I can take it." He didn't even <em> sound </em> tired. "I.. like to be used."</p><p>In every sense of the word, apparently.</p><p>Meryl liked to use Stud, too. Perhaps not specifically as furniture, but it made his ego swell that someone could be so attracted to him, they found gratification in being used as a stool. Stud was inarguably a positive influence on Meryl, and he had mellowed him out for the past years. Yet whenever they played, Stud either wanted him to go back being a cruel bastard or act a spoiled brat. One couldn't help but wondered why, even if Stud told him not to read too much into their play pretend. Meryl suspected his movies must've did a number on Stud, helped him discover what he liked – when stripped out of the bigoted narrative.</p><p>The thought made him chuckle. People caused such a fuss over his career, afraid that white women would start willingly giving themselves to Asian men. God forbid that ever happened. They went the extra length to reinforce his supposed inferiority, making sure the white male audience wouldn't feel threatened when they got the gal at the end. No one told him that the aforementioned white male audience might want him to step on them.</p><p>No, Stud didn't want to be the triumphant protagonist. Like the rest of his fanbase, he wanted to be ravaged. Meryl wondered if that ever made him feel guilty, to be a part – by association – of the public's predatory gaze. It felt cruel to say, but Meryl would like it if Stud felt guilty everytime he touched himself, thinking of him. He wanted to be lusted after, and he wanted Stud to be relieved of his struggles by his own subject of desire. <em> Yes </em>, Meryl was going to give him everything he wanted, and more.</p><p>Oh, nevermind. He was deep into this now. He was into <em> it. </em></p><p>Meryl swung his legs down. Better not push it too much for now, he didn't want Stud to strain his back. Meryl believed he could take it, but there was no need to exert himself longer than necessary.</p><p>"I'm done with my book," he said, snapping his fingers for Stud to get up.</p><p>You'd think he had been having sex from his labored breathing, the way he blushed and whined. Stud looked beautiful. Did not break a sweat, but still hot and ready for it. Desperate. Meryl cupped his cheeks, crooning praises at him. Stud leaned into his touch, nuzzling his palms, eyes heavy-lidded.</p><p>"You've done well." Meryl pulled his hands away. "Do you think you deserve to be rewarded for that?"</p><p>"I- I think so," Stud said with a gulp.</p><p>Meryl craned his head, eyes narrowed.</p><p>Stud immediately corrected himself. "Yes, sir. I deserve to be rewarded."</p><p>"Good boy." Meryl petted him on the head for that, to encourage good behavior. "And what reward did you earn yourself today? After all, it's not like you've done much. You only had to stay still – anybody could do that. It certainly didn't make up for how much of a disappointing husband you turned out to be."</p><p>There was no wrong answer. Stud could say he wanted to fuck him, and Meryl would comply with a few insults about his cock, just the way he liked it. (Never met anyone so unhappy that they've been blessed with a large penis.) Stud was – of course – neither his husband or a disappointment. Meryl felt the need to remind him of the fact, just in case Stud got too carried away with his fantasies. </p><p>He knew their make-believe didn't <em> have </em> to mean anything. Why, he was the one insisting that it was fine for Stud to hit him if he asked for it. Still, he couldn't help but question how much of this was his genuine insecurity. Especially insults about how his cock couldn't satisfy Meryl when they had penetrative sex, and how he couldn't support the lifestyle Meryl was accustomed to. Perhaps he was overthinking, but he reminded himself to tell Stud how wonderful he was once they were done.</p><p>"..Your feet sir," Stud was finally able to choose. The freedom of choices often overwhelmed him when they played, but Meryl needed him to make decisions for himself. He felt like Stud was being modest though.</p><p>"Hm, are you sure?" he asked. Stud nodded, and repeated himself again, firmer this time.</p><p><em> Feet </em>. Yet he tried to convince Meryl that he did not care for them. </p><p>"Good choice," Meryl agreed with him. He wouldn't want Stud to feel self-conscious for choosing the bare minimum, when he could have any part of Meryl's body. There was no correct answer, and the best option was whatever Stud wanted.</p><p>He smirked. "You don't deserve anything else."</p><p>Stud shuddered with his entire body. <em> Aw. </em></p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>In a way, Stud had always been his furniture. Specifically, the shelf.</p><p>Meryl always made Stud carry his bags when they were out shopping. Not for any sexual purpose – he didn't know it was something Stud liked – he just didn't want to carry things himself. He even made Stud carry his day bag sometimes. They never attracted unwanted attention, since people saw Stud as his manservant. Only some glances every now and then. Although judging by the look on their faces, they definitely expected their roles to be reversed.</p><p>It would be infuriating, but Meryl was used to being stared at. Besides, even if they were to exchange clothes, Stud wouldn't know how to carry himself. The simplistic nature of the working class would not fade away with the cut of their cloth. It was why the nouveau riche picked up an etiquette book along with their tailor-made suits to look the part. Stud was too kind a person, and not good enough an actor to convey superficiality.</p><p>Knowing what he knew now in hindsight, it made the amount of time Meryl used him as a shelf suddenly hilarious. He would stack boxes between Stud's arms to a ridiculous height. <em> Don't you dare drop them </em>, he would say, clicking his tongue impatiently. Stud never complained once, and even looked fluttered at times. Poor Stud, Meryl had no clue what he was doing to him.</p><p>Not that he stopped doing it of course. What would Stud use those strong arms for, if not carrying his bags? Sometimes he wondered if it excited Stud, but the thoughts of exposing their play to unsuspecting strangers – or worse, <em> children </em> – mortified Meryl. Although the act alone on itself wasn't sexual, everything else about it was. The thrill of being caught did not apply when you were a biracial couple of the same gender, who had <em> unconventional </em>tastes. </p><p>Still, he could tease Stud about it. Just a little, if he was careful enough.</p><p>And so their third time – which lasted no time at all – was in a tailor shop. Stud was holding up a tie in each hand for Meryl to compare. His arms were held high and stiff as a board, lest the other ties Meryl draped across his arms might fall. They'd been doing this for an hour now, owing to Meryl's indecisiveness (and his <em> demand </em>for perfection.) The tailor herself had disappeared into the back, seeking the options Meryl asked for, and shouldn't be back for quite a while.</p><p>Meryl looked both ways – and more than twice – before he approached Stud. He startled, one tie slipped and almost fell before he straightened his arms out again. Meryl stood on tiptoes to whisper in his ears, his lips lingered over his jaws along the way.</p><p>"Behave," he whispered. "And I will reward you when we get home."</p><p>A soft kiss on his neck, just above his collars, and then Meryl pulled away. Stud gasped like a man who just broke through an iced-over pond, exhaling loudly. For a second Meryl worried he was getting an erection in broad daylight, but he controlled himself. Good.</p><p>Now, silk or wool?</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>The fourth time was tricky.</p><p>Meryl was smoking. He hadn't smoked for some time now, and he had stopped drinking entirely. The latter was intentional, but the first was not so. Stud himself was a smoker, he had no problem with it as long as they both kept their habit away from his impressionable nephew. Meryl wasn't trying to quit smoking either. His mouth was... <em> occupied </em> by another, newly-acquired habit.  It was nice to finally sit down, take a break, and have a smoke.</p><p>He hadn't finished it yet when Stud entered the backyard, telling him dinner was ready. Meryl looked around before he realized he forgot to bring the ashtray outside with him. Dammit.</p><p>Stud glanced between him and the cigarette, before he offered <em> himself. </em>"You can put it out on me?"</p><p>Meryl frowned. "Absolutely not. I am not going to burn you."</p><p>"It would only be a small – okay." Stud didn't try to persuade him. Meryl had no doubt his pain tolerance could handle a small flame. After all, he lost his eyes in a traumatic incident, and recovered faster than anyone would in that situation. That didn't mean Meryl wanted to do it.</p><p>The way Stud perked up was intriguing though. He really wanted to be Meryl's ashtray. Meryl would be lying if he said he wasn't interested in that, but Stud's fantasies weren't always practical.</p><p>Meryl sighed. "Do you <em> truly </em> want to do it?"</p><p>"I– yes, but we don't have to do everything I want," he said. "I know it's a lot."</p><p>"Where did you have in mind?"</p><p>Stud thought about it for a second. "On the back of my hand?"</p><p>Meryl shook his head. <em> No, that won't do it. </em> "I can stub it out on your tongue."</p><p>Stud's eyes nearly shot up to his hairline. "Really?"</p><p>"Mm, I've done it before." <em> Stupid party tricks. </em>"But if we do this, you have to follow my instruction, and it's going to taste awful."</p><p>It was too methodical to be sexy. Compared to the first three times, this was solely done for the act itself, and not the experience of it. No fun dirty talks when you had to make sure your partner would still be able to taste his dinner. Stud wasn't any less enthusiastic whatsoever. Meryl knew he was a glutton for punishment, but <em> not </em> to this degree. He discovered yet another unsavory side of his handsome, unassuming partner. It was exciting.</p><p>"Open your mouth." Stud obeyed. Meryl pointed at his tongue with his other hand. "I'm going to stub it here, alright? Don't flinch. It won't hurt, and it will be out pretty much right away."</p><p>Stud was a smoker, so the taste should be somewhat familiar to him. He nodded.</p><p>"Good. Coat your tongue with saliva," he ordered. "More. Hold it over there."</p><p>There was no trick to it. Meryl just had to be quick, and confident. He stubbed it out on Stud's tongue in one push. The moisture prevented burning, and Meryl pulled it out before Stud could even feel its warmth. It would look more impressive if he stubbed it out slowly in several taps, but they weren't doing it for show. Stud already got enough ash on his tongue as it was.</p><p>Unsurprisingly, Stud's face contorted into pure disgust, and his eyes watered. "Ugh, that's awful."</p><p>"How do you feel?" Apart from disgust, of course. Though Meryl had to admit, it was fun to make him cry. Red-faced, glassy eyes, tongue still sticking out.</p><p>"You looked so pretty when you got all serious." There he was again with that word. Pretty. He wouldn't use it so often if it didn't make Meryl blush every time. "But this tastes <em> horrible </em>."</p><p>Meryl snorted. "Obviously. What did you expect?"</p><p>"Maybe it'd be better if it hurts?" Stud shook his head. "Nevermind, I think I make a better stool."</p><p>"Go rinse your mouth, you fool," he said, fondly. "And don't come to dinner with an erection!"</p><p>"Don't acknowledge it! <em> It likes your attention </em>," Stud whined before he got up and ran into the house. Heh.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He <em> did </em> sit on Stud the fifth time. It took Meryl a while to come around to it. It was truly long overdue, as they did every other thing <em> except </em>what Stud asked for. Hopefully, this would be good enough to worth the wait.</p><p>Meryl didn't sit on his back like Stud first suggested. Although he insisted he could support Meryl's weight just fine (and he believed it, Meryl saw him carrying all sorts of woods and metals,) Meryl still didn't want to put a strain on his back. He sat on Stud's lap instead, which would look normal if Stud wasn't trying to be the best chair for him. He sat upright, back straight, shoulders squared, and didn't utter a single word. He had to keep his hands away from Meryl too, which he knew was harder than staying still.</p><p>Stud wasn't half bad as a chair. Their height difference meant Meryl could rest his head under his chin, his back leaned flat against his firm chest and stomach. Stud's body wasn't all hard muscles, there was plenty of softness to be found, especially in his strong, sturdy thighs. He was so warm, too. Meryl was reading, but he started to feel sleepy. Stud was a comforting presence behind his back, he made Meryl feel safe.</p><p>He got through the first chapter before he felt a certain something hardened under him. Impressive, considering Stud's track record. </p><p>"I don't think chairs are supposed to do that," Meryl hummed.</p><p>"Sorry," Stud said in a small, embarrassed voice. "Sorry."</p><p>"It's fine." Meryl was getting too comfortable to put up the whole <em> Hurr Your Cock Bad </em> attitude. "Do you want me to help?"</p><p>"No, please don't." He was almost <em> whining. </em>"I want to be good. Let me be good for you, please."</p><p>Meryl shrugged and looked back down to his book. "Well then."</p><p>Meryl read his book, ignoring Stud's heavy breathing, the things he muttered to will down his erection, and the way he would shift under him every now and then. Stud was so close to humping him, but he forced himself to be a good chair. He had half a mind to start rubbing his ass on Stud's bulge or take his pants off and trap his cock between his thighs. That would be too mean though, and unnecessary. Stud was easily-pleased, too excitable for his own good, and severely lacking endurance. Meryl didn't need the additional stimulation to make this any harder for him. <em> This </em> was already too much for him to handle.</p><p>Well, maybe just a little. "Don't fidget so much, it's distracting."</p><p>"Sorry sir," Stud mumbled. "Ah.."</p><p>He waited for Stud to tap out, for him to say the word – but it never came. Stud Stampler was nothing but dedicated. This was going to be a <em> long </em> book.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>what the fuck am i even doing</p><p>oh i forgot my disclaimer: DO NOT TRY PUTTING YOUR CIGARETTES OUT ON YOUR TONGUE! you will probably be fine, but i dont wanna be responsible in case you arent. im just a boy.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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